On Self-Respect, Joan Didion, 1961

hehe yes

when i die all i want is to become on of those cats who lives around archaeological sites in greece and rome, sun myself while surrounded by remnants of antiquity, and make visitors wonder if i am perhaps some reincarnated ancient soul returning to the home i loved millennia ago

Yesterday Bradford Cox of Deerhunter walked up on stage in sunglasses and a fake moustache, drinking a cocktail out of a wine glass with a straw, shook my hand, and then began playing i love concerts

anwya Crazy Louise Glück poem of the day:

hearts of darkness (1991) dir. eleanor coppola, george hickenlooper, fax bahr

Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets (1971), dir. Shūji Terayama

i hope that one day i will finally be ok….i’ll make a cherry pie when it is all over

was on a call w my friend today, and she mentioned something so beautiful i might cry: she said that people often wait for birthdays and holidays to express their love for their friends. but she doesn't. she feels that everyone's existence should be celebrated every damn day. life's too short. just too unpredictable and short.

me in therapy when I’m about to segue into describing a specific traumatic memory

[ID: screencap of Mae Martin doing stand-up comedy, subtitled in yellow text with “So I wanna preface the whole next section by just reminding everyone that I’m fine.”]